


The Tempting of Orpheus

by nereidee (aurasama)



Category: Amnesia: The Dark Descent
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23378608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurasama/pseuds/nereidee
Summary: The one that can make Alexander's centuries-long resolve crumble, however fleetingly, is always Daniel and only Daniel."All these centuries in the Underworld and he hasn't looked back once; there has never been the slightest temptation to, not with Agrippa, not with Weyer. Not once, not until now. Not until Daniel."
Relationships: Alexander of Brennenburg/Daniel
Comments: 6
Kudos: 48





	The Tempting of Orpheus

Daniel's fingers wind around Alexander's wrist, and he shoves the baron against the wall none too gently.

“Are you out of your mind?” Alexander hisses.  
  
“Don't play coy,” Daniel says, face inches from Alexander's. “I'm not blind. I've seen the way you've been watching me since my arrival.”  
  
He doesn't wait for a response before claiming Alexander's lips with his own. He expects Alexander to show at least some resistance, but to his surprise, there is none; he opens his mouth and returns the kiss almost hungrily. The noise that leaves his throat when Daniel's tongue pushes into his mouth is nothing short of obscene. Alexander's free hand snakes around Daniel's waist and pulls him closer, and when they break away they're both breathless.  
  
Daniel smirks, a maddening gesture that sits too easily, too comfortably on his features. It twists them into something that does not become him, much like the rituals, much like the knife that has made its home in his hand, but even Alexander cannot put his finger on what it is exactly. Daniel. So human in his mortality. His flesh tender and his bones perfectly brittle and breakable, yet there is something about him that makes even Alexander break into cold sweat the longer he's around him.  
  
Whatever shadow has marked him is not the Orb's.  
  
Is it one of his own doing? No, it's not possible, not for his kind. Yet the glint in his eye twists something nervously in Alexander's gut, and against his better knowledge, he doesn't run from it.  
  
All these centuries in the Underworld and he hasn't looked back once; there has never been the slightest temptation to, not with Agrippa, not with Weyer. Not once, not until now. Not until Daniel.  
  
His gaze is knowing as Alexander tips back his head and kisses him fervently, lips, teeth, tongue, and he feels it tighten its grip around his throat. Something behind him beckons irresistibly, and he wants to yield to its call.  
  
Don't look back, lest it be lost to you forever, Alexander thinks. Daniel's hand slides further down and pauses to fondle him through his trousers, as though he knows that this is the tipping point.  
  
“You're not very good at hiding things for a man who likes his secrecy,” Daniel murmurs. His hands are already working on untying Alexander's cravat.  
  
“Shut your mouth,” he all but snarls, but he does not get any further when Daniel presses up against him just then.  
  
“I know you want me,” Daniel breathes against his mouth.  
  
“Daniel—“  
  
“Shh.” He sheds the cravat, fingers straying on the buttons of Alexander's waistcoat next. The kisses Daniel plants on his neck are closer to bites, leaving red, irritated skin in their wake, and Alexander's hands show little mercy as they roam over Daniel's body – tugging, clawing, pulling to expose as much of him as possible. He undoes the fastenings of Daniel's trousers swiftly, and Daniel's breath hitches audibly.  
  
“Knew you'd warm up to me eventually,” Daniel says in hushed tones, and his hands make a quick work of the baron's trousers.  
  
“Hurry up,” Alexander almost growls. He offers no resistance as Daniel grabs him by the arms arms and forces him against the wall face first. He does not disappoint, he never does; rough hands, bruising, just like the hands that hold the dagger. Alexander closes his eyes at the thought and he hisses between clenched teeth when Daniel leaves another sharp-toothed kiss at the nape of his neck and pushes against him.  
  
Alexander muffles a curse against his arm. His whole frame shakes, and Daniel mouths in his ear, “let me hear you, Alexander.”  
  
And without thinking, he does.  
  
It's erratic, clumsy, even. Daniel's fingertips dig into Alexander's hips and Alexander knows that he wonders, wonders if he's the first, if Alexander's ever let anyone else take him like this. Let someone else call the shots, give the orders. He'll never answer.

But Gods above and below, Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. The irony doesn't slip his notice. How he's the closest thing to divine Alexander's tasted in his exile. Hot breath and temptation at his shoulder. How he taunts Alexander to glance, to falter. And when Daniel draws another choked cry from him, he thinks no longer of the rituals, the Shadow, anything, nothing at all.  
  
“I knew,” Daniel repeats, and for a heartbeat he's the bow that strikes the cords; Alexander, the instrument.  
  
Alexander glances back over his shoulder, just once, and it's Hades that smiles at him with Daniel's mouth, with Daniel's eyes. The hands at his hips are grasping him so hard that it hurts. Daniel bends lower and muffles his voice into Alexander's shoulder as he comes, but Alexander can still hear the words he utters into darkness.  
  
“Don't leave me here to die.”


End file.
